Paper Tears
by Solitary Shadow
Summary: How is it that one can feel such real, painful emotions in a world made entirely out of paper? Super Paper Mario Universe. Contains character death, angst and some spoilers.


**Disclaimer:** Mario and related characters are copyrighted to Nintendo.

**Author's Note:** This oneshot doesn't make much sense and it's a very sad one. I mean... jeez. I never thought I'd actually manage to finish this. It's old, it's gritty, and before I got to work on this yesterday it was an unfinished piece way back from May.

Just read. It's in the Super Paper Mario universe. Contains spoilers, character death and some blood. And lots of angstsauce.

Why can't I write something else in the Mario section that actually doesn't involve the Super Paper Mario universe? I have loads of games to choose from - I mean, there's Galaxy. Loads of the sports spin-offs. Some of the fangames. Or even something as trivial as Mario and Luigi having carbonara with alfredo sauce. But no, SPM invaded my mind instead, and there it's going to stay.

* * *

Mario inched towards the smoking remains of what had once been Super Dimentio. He was alone and the only one left standing; fighting back a cough, he waved away the smoke and squinted into the darkness, looking for any sign of life.

"Hello?" He called. "Is everyone all right?"

No reply came, but he heard a few faint groans - not pained ones - coming from a corner. He recognized their voices and let out a sigh of relief; the others seemed to be regaining their consciousness somewhat. As he'd assured himself of their safety, Mario turned to the remains and ran over, a new priority surfacing in his mind.

"Luigi..." He whispered, clearing away the wreckage. There wasn't much of it, as Super Dimentio had been created mostly out of the Chaos Heart's power, but there was enough to obscure the view from where he was standing. "Luigi, God, no... answer me..."

He found something vaguely green lying on the ground, and looked over. Instantly he flinched; the giant Luigi's face from Super Dimentio's body was staring straight at him, unblinking. There was no body; there was only the head remaining, and it frightened Mario. "Lu- Luigi? What-"

The face flickered momentarily, and then began to grin.

"Foolish." Dimentio's voice hissed from the face's lips. "You're nothing more than a fool, Mario."

Mario stood his ground. "You've lost, Dimentio. You know it. Stop playing games with us."

"Ahh, but don't you know that I can still stay in here?" The jester still sounded mocking and sarcastic despite the damage he had taken. "Your brother's mind... his consciousness is so fertile, so pure... my, my, I must admit that he has a rather convenient soul." Dimentio laughed with Luigi's mouth, which further infuriated the plumber. "As long as _he_ lives, Mario, the Chaos Heart lives. It doesn't matter whether _I_ die or not. And if he is destroyed by your own hands... so much the better!"

"Go to hell."

"Think about it, Mario." Dimentio had begun to coax the plumber now, his voice taking on honeyed tones. "If your brother lives the Chaos Heart will destroy everything. But if he's allowed to leave this world... sure, this dimension will be destroyed, but you would save hundreds of other worlds. Why not just end it all now?"

"You talk nonsense." Mario's fists were beginning to clench. "Luigi... give Luigi back to me! Trouble us no more, Dimentio!"

"Foolish..." Dimentio laughed once more. "Don't you know that his game is nearly over anyway? Look now. He fades away as we speak. Release him from his pain, Mario... and destroy me... you certainly think that I deserve to have _my _game over, do you not?" He chuckled darkly and fixed his gaze on the plumber. "And think about what you did before. Luigi wanted to have me destroyed, and you just let him go to face me all on his own, didn't you?"

This comment had hit a weak spot; Mario flinched sharply, eyes widening and a guilty look entering his face. The jester went on, grinning from ear to ear, pretending to be oblivious. "He was admirable. Strong and brave. Honourable too, I'll give him that. When I took him to another dimension, you just went and forgot about him halfway. Think about it. He went with me, confused, frightened and so very much _alone_... think of the pain you caused him and let him rest in peace! You owe him that much!"

Mario was shaking by now. "S... stop it..." He whispered. "I... never meant... I... I was ashamed...!"

"As you should be. Doesn't make you any more redeemable." The magical jester sneered. "You didn't take responsibility for your own brother. Remember what you said to that little pixl - Tippi, was it?" His voice turned high and mocking; Mario clenched his teeth and covered his ears, but the dreadful voice still bored into his head. "_'It hurts, but we've got to grieve for him later'_!Some big brother you are! Now _Mr. L_ will proceed to go back down to the Underwhere with me... and he will _stay_ there this time!"

"No!" Mario shouted. "I won't let you! He's not Mr. L!" His nails dug into his palms, deep enough to draw blood. "He's... He's my _brother_!"

He would have attacked; had Dimentio uttered one more word, he would have lashed out at the grotesque face and wouldn't have stopped until everything was reduced to ruins. It was just pure coincidence that Dimentio chose that precise moment to break down; without any more words, the giant figure of Luigi's face broke down into various fragments, exploding and scattering in all directions. Mario yelped and ducked down, feeling a thick wave of dust brush over his back, half suffocating him; he cupped a hand over his mouth, saving himself some oxygen and room to breathe. But the dust was too thick, the sounds too loud; where were the others? Were they still alive? What was going on?

Was Luigi all right?

As he gasped for breath, it suddenly ended, and all went quiet. He looked up, brushing the dust and stone fragments away from him, and stood weakly to look at the destruction that lay before him. Half the floor had been torn up in the explosion, along with part of the ceiling, the pieces of which now all lay in a dust heap on the ground. Dimentio was nowhere to be found; Mario supposed that he was down in the Underwhere by now. Not like he cared about the jester at the present moment. He coughed once and stepped shakily onto a piece of wood, looking around for his younger brother.

"Bro?"

No answer came. But out of the corner of his eye, Mario could see something pale sticking out from the side; he approached the area and cleared away some of the rubble, and to his horror found that it was a hand. The hand wasn't moving, and didn't possess the dainty fingers of the Princess - surely it must be-

"Luigi... Luigi, no..." Mario whispered. He pulled away the wreckage and could see his brother more clearly, although he was still covered with various pieces of rubble. Luigi's eyes were closed tightly, his skin deathly pale, his breathing shallow and uneven; he still wore the black clothes, the eye-mask and green bandanna around his neck. The 'L' on his hat was facing in a different direction, and it just didn't feel right. Somehow he didn't feel like Luigi; he felt cold and distant - Mr. L, the cruel henchman of the Count he had been - and Mario _hated_ the feeling.

"This isn't you..." Mario no longer knew what he really was doing. He tugged off the younger male's hat and let it fall to the floor, and tore off the mask from his face, crumpling it in his hands and throwing it away in revulsion. "Let me see you, Luigi..."

But then, once his face had been revealed, Luigi had never looked more peaceful.

His soft boyish face was calm and gentle, with no hint of the cruel mocking stare of Mr. L. _This_ was his younger brother, the shy, yet brave young man; he was not Mr. L anymore. Finally Mario felt that his brother was there, that he really was alive - but then the body shifted and Luigi's expression turned into a grimace.

"...Bro?" A soft voice called him. Luigi had opened his eyes and was gazing blearily at his brother; those eyes were no longer narrowed, no longer cold and emotionless - Mario could only see confusion, pain and sadness in the wide, innocent gaze. "Mario... is that you?"

"Luigi, thank God." Mario sank down in relief. "Yes, it's me, Mario. Are you all right?"

"No." The younger brother whispered. "Mario... It hurts... it really _hurts_..."

Mario's smile faded into a concerned look, and he started to get up. "You're lying under all this rubble, that's probably why. Here, let me help-"

"No." Luigi whispered again, this time reaching out an arm and grasping at his brother's sleeve. "Stay with me. Don't leave me, bro!" Mario stopped; he could not refuse at this point. Slowly, he settled back down and clasped his brother's hands in his own, wanting to soothe him. Luigi looked scared, so very _scared_, and Mario felt as if he were being torn in two - he could not stay like this forever and let Luigi lie under the rubble, but he could not just leave his side either.

"What's that... down your cheek?" Luigi asked weakly, reaching for his brother. Mario touched his cheek lightly, and looked down at his fingers - which were stained with a red, sticky substance. He must have received a cut sometime during the battle; most of the blood had dried, but the red-clad plumber remembered that Luigi didn't like seeing him hurt. He quickly wiped his fingers on his overalls, not wanting to let his brother see this.

"I'm all right - it's nothing." Mario said, trying to reassure his brother, but Luigi had already seen the blood. He reached up with a shaky hand, letting his fingers brush Mario's cheek.

"You're hurt." Luigi's eyes were filling up with tears as he lightly touched the wound. "I... I did that, didn't I? And I didn't even _know_ until it was too late..." He closed his eyes, the tears spilling over. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Bro... I didn't want to... I never meant...!"

"It's all right, Luigi." Mario coaxed softly, holding his brother close. "It's all right... it wasn't your fault. This was all Dimentio's doing. You're not to blame."

"But I hurt you!" The younger brother buried his head into Mario's arms, now crying softly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" The cries didn't last long, as Luigi suddenly let out a groan of pain and began to shiver violently.

"Luigi! Luigi, what's wrong?"

"Can you... get this stuff off me, Mario?" He asked weakly and flopped back down onto the ground. "I don't... think... that I'm going to be able to go home... with you..."

Mario moved over, pushing away a few pieces of rubble and stone away from his brother's body. "Don't say that, Luigi. We're getting you back home fine. We're leaving this world behind, we're getting back home for a carbonara dinner and then-"

The red-clad plumber suddenly stopped talking. Luigi's dark clothes were stained with blood; but where from? His fingers slowly followed the bloodstains, to where they were coming from - and he began to push away the rubble frantically as his eyes widened in horror.

"Oh... no." Mario stood, horrified, as he fully cleared away the wreckage and looked down at his brother. Some of the sharp pieces of rubble that had made up Super Dimentio still remained; and in the explosion, the sharp edges had torn into the younger brother's body, impaling him to the ground. Dark blood was leaking out of the wounds, soaking his clothes. "Oh, no... no..."

Luigi looked at his brother, no more anguish in his eyes; there was only sadness and unbearable fatigue in them, and his eyes were dull and glazed. But he managed a small, sad smile. "My game's nearly over, isn't it?" He said quietly, staring peacefully above him at the ceiling.

"Luigi, no..." Mario whispered as if in a trance, sinking down on his knees.

"Am I..." Luigi's eyes closed tiredly. "...going to... die?"

No reply came to this statement, but the younger Mario brother was past caring. He opened his eyes again, blearily, and gazed silently at Mario - the latter was staring blankly at him, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

"Mario." Luigi whispered, his eyes becoming more unfocused by the minute. He reached with his hand, touching his brother's cheek and wiping off the tears. Mario's heart was breaking; tears were still sliding down his cheeks, and he was biting his lip, trying to stay strong.

"Mario." Luigi whispered again, his voice losing strength. "Promise me... something."

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll look after the Princess, and the Mushroom Kingdom like the way you've always done." Luigi's hand closed around his. "And I want you to promise me... that you'll let me die here."

"I can't promise _that_!" Mario blurted out, tears flowing uncontrollably. He grasped his brother tighter. "I can't let you die! Luigi, don't say such things, you're going to be all right-"

"I want no more of this." Luigi whispered, his voice faint and weak; he was beginning to slur his words. "All the destruction I caused... hurting you... being a burden... I don't want any more of it. I'm _tired_, Mario. This is for the best. I don't want to be consoled, I don't want to live, I just want to curl up and _die_."

Mario flinched; how could his brother say such a thing? What had gotten into him? Had Dimentio brainwashed him somehow so that he'd believe in a terrible thing like this? "Luigi, don't! You're not a burden to anyone! How could you say that?"

"Because it's true." The younger Mario brother whispered. "What use was I to you, _ever_? If I'm so weak that I end up getting brainwashed and hurting people that I love, what's the point in me living? You'd be so much better off without me!" His voice was getting louder and more bitter in tone. "No wonder Dimentio used _me_ to get on with his plan. That's all I was good for." He was cut off unceremoniously as he coughed; a little blood spilled out of his mouth, and he raised his hand to try to wipe it off weakly. Mario, who was still stunned from the unexpected words, mechanically leaned forwards to do it for him. This action was met with a harsh slap to the back of his hand.

"Don't _help_ me," Luigi blurted out, beginning to sob uncontrollably. He looked completely exhausted with fatigue. "I'm not a _kid_. Why do I always have to be the baby brother?"

"Luigi..."

"... Just leave me be, Mario. I'm done for. I'm not going back." And then all the strength seemed to leave him; the younger Mario brother lay limp and still, his chest heaving in an uneven manner. There was nothing that the red-clad plumber could do - the fragments impaling Luigi to the ground were too large and sharp to try to pull out, and even if they weren't, pulling out those pieces would hurt the other even more. For the very first time in his life, Mario actually felt helpless. Was there no one else to help him? He looked around, but found no one.

A sniff sounded below him.

"Momma..." Luigi was sobbing, his features twisted in pain. "Oh God... Momma..." His hands blindly groped for something to hold on to; Mario caught his hand and held it still. "I... I don't want to die like this... I want to _live_..."

"I know." Mario replied in a barely audible whisper. "I know..."

"... Will I... go back to the Underwhere? I don't... want to go back there again, Mario. Don't make me... go there again." Luigi begged, clinging tightly onto his brother's hand. At the feeling, Mario was reminded of the skinny little child that Luigi had been, who clung to him whenever he had nightmares or was scared of something; before, he could usually do something about it. But this time, Luigi was battling against death; and how was Mario going to do anything about that?

"Don't you worry," He finally whispered. "You're not going to that horrible place again. You're going to heaven and meet up with everyone we loved."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure as anything." Mario's voice broke, and he had to pause to stifle a sob. "You're... going to be fine. Be... be brave, all right?"

Silence.

"Mario?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm sorry I shouted at you earlier." Luigi murmured weakly. "I... I was never brave, Mario. But... you think that... I can be?"

Mario could have answered with a speech. He could have elaborated about how brave his younger brother could be, how proud of him he really was, and that he was going to be perfectly fine. But Luigi wasn't looking for words; he was looking for a physical, definite confirmation. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again, finding that he could say nothing - and nodded once, indicating his answer.

"... Mario? Don't cry."

"I'm not," The red-clad plumber mumbled, wiping his eyes hurriedly. "I'm... _I'm not_..." But Luigi understood, and he squeezed his older brother's hand once to reassure him.

"_Ti amo, Mario_." Luigi murmured, managing one last soft smile.

"_Ti amo anche_," Mario whispered back through his tears; he was aware that he was hardly coherent, sobbing through his words, but he didn't care. His grip on Luigi's hand tightened, and he pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his younger brother's forehead, holding him tight. "I'm... I'm not going anywhere... I'll stay with you, Bro, until..." A loud sob broke through his words, but he swallowed back the tears. "... until... you're asleep..."

"Momma... she'll be there, won't she?"

"She'll be there." Mario reassured, rocking his younger brother gently. "Until then, I'm staying with you."

Luigi nodded weakly. "... I'm cold..."

Mario said nothing, but bent down to take Luigi in his arms, taking care not to jostle him around too much as that would worsen the pain. Yet when he looked into his brother's eyes, they were already faintly glazed; Luigi was numb to the pain now, numb to everything, save for the fact that he was cold. His time must be drawing to a close, Mario thought, and bit back the tears as he cradled the other's body close. "I love you, Luigi."

Luigi exhaled shakily, his eyes closing peacefully for the last time. "Thank you, Mario... thank you..." He murmured, lips barely moving, leaning into his brother's warmth.

He inhaled once, and then with a faint sigh, he was gone.

The red-clad plumber stayed holding on to Luigi's body, holding onto the faint hope that perhaps his brother would be all right. Perhaps a faint spark of life would live within him, and they could carry Luigi back to the Mushroom Kingdom so that he could regain consciousness. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could go on the same as before...

Yet he knew that he was fooling himself. As he thought of the times they had shared together, of the way Luigi would wait for him whenever he was sent out to rescue the Princess, he felt his younger brother's grip on his hand loosening. Panicking, he tried to hold on in vain; but it was too late. Luigi's fingers slid lifelessly out of his hand, and fell to the ground with a limp thud. The younger Mario brother was gone now, and Mario knew it all too well.

But he couldn't accept it.

His lips moved wordlessly as he tried to say something - a denial, perhaps, or just a plain refusal to accept the situation - but no words came. Mario stared blankly at his dead brother's face, trying to get a grasp on what had just happened; now that death had claimed Luigi, there was something noticeably different about him. All the discontent, the anguish, and sorrow was gone from his face. Luigi was nice-looking and simple, his face young and gentle. There were still tears in his closed eyes; they had made a trail down his cheeks, staining his face. His light brown hair was tousled lightly, but apart from that (and the blood staining his clothes), he could have been sleeping. Mario bent down, tracing his thumb gently around the tear stains on his younger brother's face.

_"Buona notte, Luigi_..." But even as he said so, Mario felt his heart shatter into pieces. He threw his head back and wept; this was only a two-dimensional, paper world, his body merely a paper figure, that could crumple up and burn down at any time. He almost wished it to happen at this very moment; although everyone around him was merely paper, and his tears merely paper tears, his grief could not feel more real than what he was feeling now. Death would be so much preferable. There would be no Luigi waiting for him back home. Whenever he came back from an adventure, or an outing, he would come back to an ominously empty house instead of a soft, warm welcome. There was going to be no younger brother wrapping him in an embrace whenever he was down. There would be no more conversations by the fire, no more tea for two, and at dinner, Luigi's chair would remain painfully empty.

Occasionally, Mario had thought that Luigi could be difficult to bring along with him when he was travelling. But how could have his little brother, the child who had snuggled into his bed at night because of a nightmare, thought that he was being a burden to him? How could he have thought such a thing?

Over the years, Mario had grown rather distant from his brother. He brought Luigi along on less and less adventures, and insisted on him staying home and guarding the Kingdom in his absence. Although the green-clad plumber said nothing, over time he had ceased to smile and laugh. He had gained a permanently unhappy expression, and although he usually said very little, he was often unusually silent and brooding. After a couple of years, his expression gained a new quality; loneliness. Luigi missed Mario a lot, and it was only too visible. It probably didn't help that Luigi was too _shy_ to go out and make new friends. Mario had noticed, of course; but he had never commented on it.

Why hadn't he? Why hadn't he reached towards his brother? Why hadn't he asked Luigi what was wrong? How could he have been so _careless_, leaving Luigi's resentment to grow until it manifested into a dark, cruel alter-ego that not even the younger Mario brother himself could control?

Could he have possibly known that all this time... he had been the reason for Luigi's unhappiness? Had he never quite dared to think about what he might have been doing to Luigi during all the time he was away? He gazed at Luigi's calm, noble face, every sob he made cutting through his heart sharply like a knife.

And then he knew in an instant why Luigi had died. The green-clad plumber had not met his demise because of the metal fragments impaling him to the ground; oh, no, that would never have happened, had Luigi actually thought that he had a purpose in this world. All Luigi had wanted to do was to help Mario - and when he found, to his despair, that he had managed exactly the opposite, he had lost all faith in his world. Mario did not doubt that Dimentio would have tormented him. The jester wouldn't have missed an opportunity to mess around with Luigi's already delicate mind. And finally, when all had fallen through and nothing more was left for him, Luigi had simply given up on himself and died. Had Mario been more supportive, this would never have happened.

Where were his usual garments, Mario wondered vaguely as he looked down at his dead brother. Was Luigi still wearing a green shirt and overalls under this black attire? Or were those garments lost forever, leaving Luigi lying here, enclosed in clothes that symbolized his darker, resentful self? It struck Mario that his younger brother had died nuzzling into his warmth; perhaps after looking after people all the time without leaving any time to care for himself - perhaps after spending so much time in the cold Underwhere - all he'd craved in the end was some human warmth. It was such a _small_ thing to want after living such a lonely life, painfully reminding Mario of how little he had done for Luigi compared to what the latter had done for him.

It was his fault...

... all his fault...

Unbeknownest to him, Princess Peach, Bowser and the rest of his group were all standing silently behind him; the Princess was crying silently into her hand, while the others all looked lost. Nobody knew what to say, how to console the plumber - no one knew how to quell the endless grief that Mario was lost in. The red-clad plumber raised his eyes to the blank horizon, the once-bright sapphire orbs now dull and broken, and he sank down again in despair. His logic berated him for this act; what more was left for him now, in this paper world? What more could he gain by shedding those paper tears? He could get up, pull Luigi's body free, join the others and go home.

But he couldn't bear the thought of seeing their home empty.

Mario lay down next to Luigi, holding his brother's body tight; he momentarily shuddered at the chill that travelled up his spine. Luigi was so cold already. Closing his eyes, he made one final wish; that this world would vanish into eternity, would never exist in the first place. At least it would eradicate the pain.

"I'm sorry, Luigi." He murmured softly. "I'm coming now, okay? And... this time I won't leave you. I promise."

Then his world died.

* * *

This... Jesus, I don't know. I never thought I'd actually write a fic where Luigi died. It felt very awkward to write, unusually realistic and unrealistic at the same time, and although I like it, I don't consider it my best. It just... confused me. Completely.

Not to mention that I took extreme liberties with this one. This originally had a happy ending - but then I decided to scrap that after deciding that hey, it wasn't going to work. That would result in Count Bleck and Timpani having way too much power over the worlds. So this is how it ends.


End file.
